#pls ignore any typos

[zorosdimples]

mdni. cw: foot job. the idea stemmed from this post.

ino takuma thinks you’re bluffing.

“you clearly don’t know me very well,” he shrugs playfully, plopping down to sit next to you at the foot of your bed.

he bumps your shoulder and you scoff. “you think i don’t know my own boyfriend? you’re just scared to admit that i could be right.”

he demurs without skipping a beat. “bullshit.”

you chuckle. “okay. prove it, then.”

oh—those are fighting words. he can’t back down; he loves it when you’re like this: pushy and stubborn, a curl to your lip that has never once led him astray. he squints at you in mock appraisal, umber eyes sparkling with mirth. he grins, cheeks dimpling.

“go ahead and show me your best, baby.”

“fuck—shit. jesus. could you pl-please,” takuma gasps, throwing his head back, “please slow down?”

your smile is sharp, a bright, mischievous gash that distorts your usually-placid demeanor. “how about no,” you coo. “this is what you get for doubting me.”

you stop stroking his length, your right foot dancing down to toy with this balls, your left foot pressing—perhaps too harshly—against his shaft. he groans as you play with his sack, rolling the ball of your foot against his velvety skin.

the man huffs. “are you seriously gonna—?”

pausing all movement, you look up at him with a warm gaze. “we can stop here if you want to.”

there’s something about your gentle tone and the vulnerable position he’s in that makes his cheeks flush; he pulls his beanie down over his eyes. as much as he wants to deny it, to gloat, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong—so, so, so wrong—he can’t.

if you keep this up, he’s going to finish. all over your feet.

he pushes his beanie up and shakes his head. his voice wavers. “keep going, please.”

[curiosity-killed]

it is still technically (as of this sentence but definitely not by the time i hit post) wip wednesday in my timezone so have a lil snippet i enjoyed writing

Despite her qualms, they made it to the surface without incident, and Siobhán looped their elbows together in easy, familiar posture.

“Now, breathe,” she directed under her breath before tilting her gaze toward the other side of the deck.

Now that they could so easily be seen, the crowd that had gathered began to perk up and nudge one another. They didn’t dare point at the two of them, but their blatant nods and significant looks were just as effective. At the burst of muffled noise, Siobhán released one hand from Jisel’s arm to wave brightly at all of them. Jisel took the moment to steal a breath and steel herself.

Regal, Siobhán had said. She was the daughter of the king and queen; she could figure regal out, even if it had never in her life been used to describe her.

She found herself imagining Callebero, his court face. She hated when he turned it on her, growing cold and closed-off, but she’d seen him use it too many times to deny its effectiveness. When he was listening to petitioners or puzzling out an uncomfortable situation, it offered a facade of serenity before he was ready to speak. When she’d first seen it, the first time she ever saw the Bloodletter sitting on his throne in the midst of his city of tents, she’d been terrified.

She didn’t want fear, exactly. Or—maybe a little. Like a tiger flaunting its brilliant stripes, she could warn any who approached that she, too, had claws even when they were sheathed. If Siobhán was to be the sweet and approachable queen, she could make herself untouchable.

[enderpawu]

walking through the city and dying inside ! (hes so real for that)

this time wanted to make more of a comic cus i am silly like that :3 also for anyone who doesnt know, this is for my hc au! its called "time magic" and if u like this then consider checking out my page, still a work in progress but arent we all.

[rainyrambles-overcod]

Wiping away cheek kisses from the 141 as a joke? Overall, not recommended 💀

‘M tired y’all, don’t judge. It’s just a little something different than usual, via my notes app, from my time w/o internet

With Price, come on. You really thought that was a good idea for a joke, sweet? 🤨 That wasn’t very nice. 0/10. Could probably go one of two ways, depending on his mood. Good mood: to teach you a lesson by withholding future kisses from you. How long that lasts is up to you, doll 🤷‍♂️ Bad mood? Oh, he needs you to accept his kisses. Can’t have his heart broken by the one person who brings him peace, after all. So, the prick pulls you right back to smother you with so many kisses that it’d be impossible to wipe them all away. You brought this upon yourself, doll 😌

With Simon…no. Not a good joke. -100/10. Might have a little moment of serious thought once he sees that hand come up to wipe away his kiss—wondering if he’d somehow missed one of your tells that you’d been upset with him about something. He swore he’d taken out the trash like you’d asked, swore he’d mopped the mud from his boots in the foyer—oh. Oh that was a joke? Not a very good one, luvie. Don’t scare him like that, yeah? Had a moment there where he almost thought that you were just losing interest in him, or something, but wouldn’t admit that. Can’t lose his favourite person, not now or ever. Doesn’t think he could stomach such a thought. Reassures himself at your cost, and crowds your space until you accept his fawkin’ kisses.

Kyle would most certainly pout. Ever attentive, he may gently try and ask if there was something wrong, at first. Had he done something to upset you? Was it that annoying coworker again? Was that obnoxious neighbour still bugging you? No? What is it then, luv? Some slight internal panic, but he masks it by trying to figure out what happened. Will use his skills in psychological warfare to ease the truth out of you—for your own good, he swears!—only to figure out that it was just a prank. Nearly had his heart beatin’ outta his chest, luv! 😮‍💨Don’t toy with him like that, yeah? Now give him a right proper kiss to apologise—

Trying this on Johnny will backfire. Be prepared for whiplash. Wipe away his kiss, and he’ll stand there for a moment, confused x100. Tries again—maybe you just had an itch? He’ll shave a lil for you later. But when you wipe that one away too, he knows what he saw. Frowns, and may or may not just pick you right up, and march you over to the couch/bed. What’s all this for, eh? Wipin’ away his kiss like that, bon? Relentless when he discovers it was only a joke. Welp! Looks like your stuck wherever he’s managed to pin you 😚 Just maybe save this prank until after he’s showered, next time, else risk smelling like his workout all day 🤷‍♂️

[tetzoro]

zoro + mutual masturbation has been on the brain . . WC : 500

zoro’s never done anything sexually past fisting his cock whenever the urge was too strong. he doesn’t know how to please another person in that way, hell, he barely knows how to please himself. its been his biggest worry when it comes to you — his pride riding on the fact that he has to be the best, needs to make you unravel around him as he drives you over the edge.

so you had the brilliant idea of showing him how. the only catch is that he had to show you too.

everything happened so quickly — clothes being shed, door securely locked, your back pressed against the padded arm of the couch while he all but towers over you, leaning into your space with his hand gripping his cock.

the closeness was palpable, zoro all but stealing your breaths as his face was mere inches away from yours, letting out raspy pants of your name as he flicks his wrist faster to the sight before him.

sweat beads along his hair line, one by one falling down the side of his face, tracing his sharp jawline before dripping off his chin. the room’s tension was immeasurably thick, creating a foggy heat that licked at his abdomen, almost coaxing him to prematurely spill into his hand.

doing everything he can to combat it, he swallows thickly, feeling his adam’s apple bob with a slight perspiration covering his skin in his own dew of desire.

zoro knew you were speaking, could hear your sweet voice trying to tell him something that could’ve been important to the task at hand — but all he could zero in on is the squelch of your cunt as you stuff another finger in. you were so wet, folds glistening under the soft light in the room you two explored each other in. zoro licks his lips in anticipation, mouth watering for a taste he’s never had but yearns for like no other.

pulsing with need, his fist tightly closed around his ever leaking tip and gives it a few squeezes in hopes of staving off his release, unintentially edging himself as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

mystified, zoro can’t look away. not when his name sounds like a prayer as it tumbles out from your lips. with a groan, his hips stutter as he loses control, feeling himself spurt up along his hot, heaving chest. sharp eyes trained between your legs as you all but ride your hand, juices steadily coating your fingers.

ignoring his own mess, he lunges toward you before he can even think, lightly gripping your wrist and enveloping your fingers in his mouth. the groan he lets out reverberates along your bones and deep in your soul, building up another fire within you as his tongue swirls between your digits until they’re perfectly clean.

“again.” is all he says with a breathy grunt, pulling you flush against the couch, situating between your legs with a starved yet determined lust blown look in his eye. “but this time, i want to do it.”

[starrystevie]

18+ | explicit sex & smoking | read here on ao3

it's 1996 when steve's world gets turned upside down again.

or, well, technically it's a few minutes into '97 when everything changes. he's at a new years party that his ex timothy is hosting and everyone is still hooting and hollering as they ring it in, pressing sloppy kisses to cheeks and lips with arms hooked around necks.

steve doesn't get kissed. not because people aren't eyeing him with a smirk and mischief and open arms of their own. no, he doesn't let himself get kissed because something feels... off about the night. the energy is weird, buzzing through his skin like electricity, keeping him on edge in a way he hasn't been since he left hawkins for boston in the fist place.

it isn't long until he figures out why.

timmy is walking up to him with his hands on some guy's shoulders, pushing him backwards with a wide smile like he's trying to convince him of something. the guy is about his height, short cropped dark hair and a leather jacket, the sight of his back alone getting steve excited. timmy always did know his type to a t.

"hey!" timmy yells over the music as he catches steve's eye. "got someone for you to meet."

once the guy turns around, the smiles on both steve and the mystery guy's faces fall before their minds catch up with them and plaster them back together. even with the short cropped hair, even with the piercing in his eyebrow, even with the stubble spreading over his defined jaw, steve would know that face, that heartbeat, anywhere.

"steve, i wanted to introduce you to someone. jamie, this is steve, you know... the guy i was telling you about?"

timmy's trying to be helpful, not even attempting to be subtle as he pushes the two closer together with a wide grin. steve's going on autopilot, reaching out a hand to grab the one outstretched towards him, but his brain is going a million miles a minute.

"nice to meet you, steve," eddie, or... jamie, says, palm pressed tightly against his own.

steve can't say anything, focusing too much on the warmth on his palm and the way his deep voice shakes through him like thunder and the way he feels like he's 19 again with a stuttering heart.

"what are-" he starts.

eddie shakes his head and tugs on steve's hand. "not here. come on."

they end up in a secluded corner, close enough that steve can smell smoke and leather polish and the sharp bite of his cologne. close enough that he can see the lines starting to appear on the corners of eddie's eyes, the stray grey hairs popping up in his beard, the questions swirling behind his eyes.

"eddie."

"jamie," is all he says back, not even bothering to look away from steve's eyes. "it's jamie now."

they both sigh like they don't know where to start because they don't. steve grapples with all the questions in his mind before settling on one. the one that tore through him late at night. the one that stayed on the tip of his tongue anytime he heard a van backfire or metallica.

"where did you go?" he knows it sounds like an accusation because it is. he doesn't let himself feel bad when eddie (jamie) flinches.

"feds," he replies easily, sneaking a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it between his lips. he tilts his head back to light it away from steve's face, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "once i got better, they scooped me up and brought me to boston. new name, new hairstyle, new life. at least they let me choose my name so i didn't get stuck with some thing awful."

steve snorts. "so you ended up with 'jamie' how?"

"middle name's james. it just made sense." he says it with a shrug and puffs at his cigarette again.

they look at each other for a moment. steve watches his tongue flit out of his mouth to wet his lips, watches the overhead lights glint off the metal of a surprise tongue piercing, watches his throat swallow around nothing but spit.

he can see, feel, eddie doing the same. he hams it up, pulls his lip between his teeth and makes it a show, looks back up at eddie from under his lashes. takes in a deep breath when eddie inches closer to him until their hips are bumping and steve plucks the cigarette out of his lips for a puff of his own.

he's 19 again, in love or like or lust with a boy in a leather jacket that has the world against him. he's 19 again, working a hand over himself to thoughts of his crush who up and vanished without so much as a goodbye. he's 19 again, crying after he comes, wishing he could go back in time before he met curly hair and a battle vest.

"so how do you know tim?" eddie whispers like he has to be quiet even though the part is loud and no one could hear them if they tried.

"how do you know him?" steve asks back, blowing out smoke and putting the cigarette back between eddie's barely spread lips.

his eyes flick down to look at steve's still pursed lips from when he angled the smoke over his shoulder. "we used to fuck, once upon a time when i first got to boston."

steve hums like it's the answer he expected and maybe it is. "same here. dated for about a year."

eddies eyes grow wide and his hip bumps into steve's like it's a question in and of itself and maybe it is. "didn't know you swing that way, harrington."

"well, you don't really know anything about me then, do you? didn't back then either, munson."

his eyes goes even wider, something like fear and shame and comfort and hope swimming in them. "leonard. it's leonard now."

steve hums again, says 'jamie leonard' like he's feeling it out on his tongue. tasting it between his teeth. teaching his mouth how to form the words instead of what he really wants to say like 'eddie' or 'munson' or 'i'm still somehow in love with you no matter your name'.

"jamie leonard," he says again, breath hitting eddie's lips. he shivers when he sees his lips part a bit more like he wants to swallow the sound and air that steve gives him. "we have a lot to catch up on, don't we?"

steve's apartment isn't all that big, isn't exactly small either but it has everything he could possibly need. he has a living room that looks out over the harbor and a kitchen with all new appliances and eddie munson naked in his bedroom. you know, the essentials.

their clothes are all over the floor, eddie's motorcycle helmet flung somewhere in the vague direction of the armchair in the corner but the smack it makes when it hits the wall makes steve think there's probably a hole in the drywall.

but eddie's sucking on his cock, hands wrapped around his thighs as he takes him even deeper, eyes flicking up to meet steve's, beard scratchy as it rubs against his sensitive skin. he's never been blown by someone with a tongue piercing but he doesn't think he can ever go back now.

the last thing on his mind is wondering if there's a hole in the goddamn wall.

"oh fuck, yeah there you go. feels so goddamn good," steve breathes out as he feels the back of eddie's throat on his cockhead. he tangles a hand as best he can in his short dark hair to try and coax him even deeper. eddie hums at either the praise or the tug on his hair or the way it feels as he works his tongue over steve's cock and it makes him jolt unexpectedly.

if he could go back in time and tell his 19 year old self that eddie was alive, that he was okay and breathing and learning how to suck cock like a goddamn professional, he'd do it in a heartbeat. save himself a few years of pining and fly straight out to boston to see it for himself. he's sure robin would have preferred to not have to listen to his whining everyday about brown eyes and dark curls.

eddie brings a hand to cup his balls, finger teasingly pressing into steve's taint, bobbing his head eagerly like he wants him to come in his mouth, but steve has other plans. he tugs eddie off of his cock quickly, lines of thick spit falling between them and sticking to his chin before crowding him up against the pillows.

steve kisses like he's dying and eddie is survival. he kisses him like he is drowning and eddie is the shore that he's clawing his way towards. he kisses him like 19 year old steve could only dream about.

soon enough, steve's sliding into him with a groan that he lets eddie swallow from him. the headboard knocks heavily into the wall a few times making even more possible holes, but all steve can focus on is the heat around him, the way eddie's whines bounce off the walls of his too empty bedroom and cover him like a blanket.

he likes fucking this way. he likes being able to watch as someone's face contorts into pleasure, like to see eyes rolling back and mouths dropping open and sweat beading around their hairline. likes seeing eddie fall apart.

"steve, oh my god," eddie's voice is still deeper than he's used to as he moans so he angles his hips up more to hear it again, the low timbre snaking through his veins and leaving fire in its wake. "don't stop."

"i won't," he groans into eddie's open mouth. "wanted this for so long, for fucking 11 years, not giving you up yet."

it's a bit more open than steve normally is when he first fucks someone but this isn't just someone. this isn't fucking a stranger he picked up in a bar that had almost the right shade of brown eyes and patches on his jacket that are almost the right shape. this is eddie. his eddie. or well... jamie.

"fuck, i'm gonna date you so fucking hard, harrington. yeah, right there keep going, shit-"

he's babbling as steve works his hips faster, tangling their free hands together to press above their heads on a pillow, and it's everything steve could have asked for. hearing his name fall from the lips he's dreamed about for years, sharing the same air as they breath into one another.

he thought he was over it, thought he had moved on at least a little bit from a halfway stranger he knew in his teens, but with the way they're both looking straight into each other's eyes begging each other to see them, he thinks they might both be back in 1986.

"what do-" steve cuts himself off as he whimpers, close, so close to the finish line. "what do you want me to call you? is it jamie or-"

he's shaking his head on the pillow, leaning up to bite at steve's lips and pull it between his teeth. he looks serious and certain when he says, "no, that name's not for you, it's... i need-"

steve brings his hand down to work over his cock and revel in the way his eyes roll back until he can only see white. he hits something that makes his eyes fly back open and he gets to see his favorite shade of brown again.

"eddie," he whispers. leaning down quickly, steve presses a kiss to his ear before whispering his favorite name there too. "eddie, baby, come on. let me... come on, eddie."

it feels silly to be chanting a name of a ghost as intensely as he is. but he can see it crawl over eddie like it's bringing him back to life. like he isn't bones on the ground in an alternate dimension. like he isn't a plain headstone in a graveyard next to a forgotten trailer park. like he isn't playing pretend with a fake name and a fake life.

steve says eddie and it brings him home.

afterwards, they lay together in steve's probably too soft bed, tears drying on both of their cheeks as they catch up. as they tell each other secrets that their younger selves could never dare. as the piece together the lives they have and the lives they want to have and slot each other into the mix.

steve has a hand in eddie's hair, eddie has one trailing over steve's arm that's slung over his chest. he's always been a fan of cuddling after sex.

"y'know," eddie mutters, "tim's been trying to get me to meet his hot teacher friend for months now."

steve hums, presses a kiss to his temple. "and he's been trying to get me to meet his hot motorcycle tech for months, too."

there are a few holes in the walls from the headboard and eddie's helmet, but steve thinks that they can patch those up, too.

he's still jamie leonard to the outside world. he's still a guy who doesn't have much family other than a mysterious uncle in indiana and doesn't have many friends other than ex boyfriends. he still introduces himself with a handshake and says a fake name like it's real.

but when he gets home, when he crawls onto a couch that overlooks the harbor and has arms wrapped around him, he gets to be eddie munson once more. and with the ghost of a man in his arms, steve harrington feels more like himself than he ever thought he would.

[deansbeer]

hey girl. i love telepath! reader. ik it’s not halloween yet but i can literally see her trying to match bolt and be a playboy bunny. how do you think dean would react to that?🩷

oh, mans would so malfunction at the sight of her in a playboy bunny costume ‼️ + thank u sm for loving telepath!reader !!! it truly makes my lil heart so happy to hear <33

you're standing in your room, carefully applying the finishing touches to your halloween makeup as bolt lounges lazily on your bed, watching you with his twitching nose and curious little eyes. as usual, you're talking to him like he's your personal stylist.

"what do you think, bolt? the black ones or the pink ones?" you hold up two options of bunny ears in front of him. he doesn’t move, just stares, but you take his silence as an answer. "black it is. good choice, bub. classy."

he's your little partner-in-crime tonight, at least in spirit. you're going as a playboy bunny, and bolt, well, he's the inspiration behind the whole thing. he’s staying behind with dean and sam, though. you'd asked dean earlier if he could bunny-sit, and of course, he agreed. it wasn't like you asked him to do much—just keep an eye on the little furball while you were out.

you glance at yourself in the mirror, making sure everything is in place. the black satin bodysuit fits you like a glove, hugging your curves in all the right places. the sheer black tights make your legs look impossibly long, and the stilettos you chose—which you're still not entirely sure you won’t regret later—add the perfect touch. the bunny ears sit atop your head, completing the look.

"how do i look, bolt?" you ask, turning to face him with a grin. he twitches his ears, and you laugh. "yeah, i thought so. stunning, right?"

bolt doesn't answer, obviously, but you like to think he's silently hyping you up.

when you step out of your room, holding bolt in one arm and fixing the bunny ears as you walk, you head toward the library where sam and dean are. sam's sitting at the table, nose buried in some kind of research, while dean is leaning back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers.

you adjust one of your heels as you step into the room, the soft click of them echoing in the quiet space. both of their heads snap up when they hear you.

"so?" you say, smiling as you approach the table. "how do i look?”

sam's the first to speak, a warm smile spreading across his face. "wow, you look great. very… festive."

you laugh, setting bolt gently on the table in front of him. "thanks, sam. you're watching him while dean drops me off, right?"

"yeah, no problem," sam replies, reaching out to scratch bolt behind his ears.

then you turn to dean, who hasn't said a word yet. he's just sitting there, staring at you like he doesn't know what to do with himself. his jaw is tight, and his eyes keep darting between your face and—well, everywhere else. finally, he clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter.

"you look… uh, good. yeah. real good," he says, his voice gruff.

you notice the way he shifts in his seat, his hand briefly brushing over his thigh as if he's trying to adjust something. you don't think much of it, though, just flash him a smile.

"thanks, de. ready to go?"

he nods, standing up a little too quickly. "yeah, let's go."

the ride to the party is quiet at first. you're messing with your phone, checking for texts from your friends, while dean keeps his eyes firmly on the road. but you can feel the tension in the air, the way he keeps shifting in his seat every few minutes.

"you okay over there?" you ask, glancing at him curiously.

"yeah, fine," he says quickly, his voice a little too sharp.

you raise an eyebrow. "you sure? you've been squirming since we left. what’s going on?"

he hesitates, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "just… sore, that's all.”

you tilt your head, confused. "sore? why would you be sore? didn't sam say you skipped working out today?"

he grits his teeth, clearly regretting his excuse. "just drop it, okay?"

you roll your eyes but don't push it. whatever's going on with him, he'll tell you if he wants to. maybe you'll just have to get inside his head yourself. but that's an invasion of privacy and you'd prefer him to tell you, rather than you sticking your nose in his business.

when you finally pull up to your friend's house, the street is already packed with cars, and you can hear the faint thump of music from inside. you spot your friend waiting near the door, waving excitedly when she sees you.

"thanks for the ride, dean," you say, opening the door.

"no problem, sweetheart," he mutters, his voice tight.

you step out of the car, adjusting your tights and tugging the bodysuit into place as you walk toward the house. your friend meets you halfway, pulling you into a hug.

"oh my god, you look so hot!" she gushes, pulling back to look at your outfit.

"so do you!" you reply with a laugh, but before you can say anything else, a guy steps out onto the porch, joining your friend.

he immediately places a hand on your shoulder, leaning in to introduce himself. you're polite, smiling and nodding, but you can feel the older winchester brother's eyes burning into the back of your head from the car.

he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white, his jaw clenched as he watches the scene unfold. the guys laughs at something you say, his hand lingering on your arm a little too long for dean's liking.

"sonuva bitch,” dean mutters under his breath, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal as he pulls away from the curb. he doesn't even wait for you to go inside before speeding off, the tires squealing slightly as he turns the corner.

his heart is pounding in his chest, his mind racing with a mix of anger and jealousy. who the hell does the guy think his is, touching you like that? you're his girl. well, not officially, but still. you're his.

he spends the entire drive back to the bunker stewing in his own thoughts, alternating between cursing himself for not saying anything and cursing out the guy for daring to lay a hand on you.

back at the bunker, sam glances up when dean storms inside, slamming the door behind him.

"everything okay?" sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

dean doesn't answer, just heads toward the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge and mutters, "watch the damn bunny."

sam exchanges a confused look with bolt, who twitches his ears in response.

meanwhile, dean sits at the table, staring at the bottle in his hand, already counting down the hours until he can go pick you up—and maybe punch the guy in the face while he’s at it.

[answer2jeff]

⟡ 'Cause I want you. ⟡

thinking about jealous daddy!lip x spoiled sweet girl!reader rn.

❤︎ warnings: brief mention of a daddy kink, suggestive and mentions of sex but not smut, extremely NOT cannon lip (after S1), girly & hyperfeminine reader (but she's not a bimbo. don't even try to make this misogynistic I swear to god, just let me live my trashy pastel-grunge truth), intimacy, sweet and tender yet very angry and jealous lip.

also hi yes I'm back!! for now.

song that inspired this fic: I want you, by Summer Camp. ❤︎

if lip actually had the security and control to admit to his jealousy without finding statements to make in front of anyone who expressed the smallest amount of interest in you, the two of you wouldn't be sloppily making out against a stall door in the bathroom of The Alibi right now.

"I fuckin' hate when he looks at you like that," he breathes against your neck, almost sounding more worried for your safety, while simultaneously coming off as a promise to destroy the pale, dorky face of the customer that came in on thursday nights (seemingly just to stare at your ass when you'd turn away) if he ever smiled at you too enthusiastically ever again. your cheap heels clicked against the tile as you parted away from his lips and walked towards the mirror. you wore them to get tips. lip loved them, but hated that they worked on other guys. yet, he let you win. lip's arms wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed against your back as his mouth came to grant you a kiss on the side of your head. you frowned at the sight of your makeup nearly disintegrating. your hair fell flat, simply draping over your shoulders without the former magic of round-brush and blowdryer waves. unsurprisingly, lip seemed to like you even more this way.

it frustrated you, but you learned to appreciate his love for "the real you." if you could, you would kiss his lips so hard his entire fucking face would bruise for days. unfortunately, no amount of passion or intensity could achieve that. for now, you'll just hold his hand so tight that every knuckle would crack if you weren't careful enough, while he pounds into you, whispering praises of 'I love you,' and 'you're so goddamn perfect.' he wanted you to fucking cry as he caressed your cervix with gentle, deep strokes. and you did. hot tears trickled down your pretty little face that was red with the slap of lip's palm against your cheek just minutes ago.

but that wasn't of much concern right now. for once, all the two of you wanted was to get the fuck home. maybe lip could even run a bath if either one of you had decently warm water. you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into one last tongue-filled kiss of the night. he grabbed your hand before sneaking the two of you out of the women's restroom and running through dozens of people to get through the door.

"fuck, my feet hurt," you whined, feeling your shoes gnaw at your heels, forming what would become blisters by the morning. thinking you'd have to walk home in pure discomfort, lip cleared your doubts.

"c'mere," he lulled you towards him before kneeling down to remove your heels. as if you'd been watching cinderella, he removed each heel carefully, putting them down on the ground before turning around.

"what are you doing?"

"get on my back," he insisted, extending his arms and looking back to you.

"what? no!"

"do you wanna bitch and moan about how bad your 'precious feet' hurt the whole way back or not, babe?"

you were silenced. annoyed, you picked up your heels and held them with just the strength of your index and middle finger in each shoe. hesitantly, you climbed onto lips back and felt a giggle of anxiety erupt from you. he laughed back, likely not realizing you were more nervous than you were flattered. needless to say, he carried you the entire 3 blocks to your apartment. unfortunately you did have to walk up the stairs by yourself. and barefoot at that. but it was definitely worth it. after digging for your keys in your purse, lip cracked the door open and you nearly unraveled completely as you tossed your shoes onto the floor. you folded onto the soft duvet of your bed, your sheets melting into your skin like butter. feather pillows cushioned the landing of your face.

"tired, huh sweet thing?" lip cooed, shutting the door behind him and kicking off his shoes. he then unbuttoned his jeans, balling them up and tossing them in a basket he hoped was a hamper. the sight of you in those jean shorts and tank top made him want to take them off, but not in the way you initially thought. he tapped your shoulder, telling you to turn over. thinking he just couldn't resist you, you smirked as he took off your clothes, even unclasping your bra. he lifted his shirt above his head and handed it to you. for a moment, you were confused.

"oh," you muttered.

lip saw the surprise in your eyes before you put on the grey t-shirt that absorbed the smell of cigarettes and his cologne.

"what?" he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead before crawling into bed with you.

"nothing," you cleared your throat, both enamored and slightly embarrassed, "I just thought you had something else in mind."

he wanted to laugh, but he knew of his reputation. the way his body craved yours when the words "please, daddy," hit his ears, and how just a kiss was enough to get him begging you to call him that sultry name again, telling you how much he loved to hear it leave your pretty mouth. so he didn't laugh. instead, he just shrugged his shoulders, playing dumb.

"I mean, I love fucking you, you know I do, but-"

"I get it, lip," you smiled, pulling the covers over the two of you. lip pulled you into his arms, his bare chest against your clothed breasts that felt soft and plush. moments like this mattered to you. it made you realize that he really was all about you. for once, your naked body only brought sex as a second, maybe even a third thought. it angered you, and yet it was so lovely at the same time. you started to question if it was really that insane to chain your feet together so he could never leave. but you'd never ask him. not because he'd say no, but because you knew he would and he wouldn't mean it. he already chained himself to you a long time ago. the day he saw you he melted his heart into yours.

"I love you. like, a lot," he sighed.

lip pulled away just so he could cup your cheek, gently and hungrily kissing your swollen lips. the look of greed in your pretty eyes entranced him once again. fuck, he loved you. he loved you so much he felt like he could wrap his arms around you and snap every bone in your fucking back if no one stopped him. and yet, he never hurt you. even just a slap of dominance across your beautiful face felt like too much somedays. so, it was rare.

"I love you," you said, your eyes darting around as you took in every detail of his face. "why did you do that for me?"

you were asking about the whole piggy-back-ride-home. its not like lip didn't do things for you. he did plenty, actually. lighting your cigarettes, helping you with homework before you graduated, renting books for you from the library so you could have as many books at a time as you fucking wanted, kissing you even when you had thick lip gloss on. but carrying you home seemed like something he would've taunted you for even asking for just a year ago.

"because I wanted to?" he answered in that same questioning tone, raising a brow and gently passing his thumb over your cheek, cradling your face gently.

"'cause I want you?"

[phoenixtakaramono]

ELDRITCH BILLY/ HOMELANDER THREADFIC

SUMMARY: I've written werewolf!Butcher/ vampire!Homelander threadfics before. Here's another 🔞 butchlander monsterfucking AU, this time with Billy essentially being a powerful eldritch god that Homelander wants to fuck.

CW: tentacle sex, oviposition (body horror if you squint but not really)

(The rest of the threadfic can be read here!)

If you don’t have a Twitter account, I have screenshotted the rest of the spicy half below the line break:

Q&A

You mentioned a couple times that a thread in Homelander's mind snapped. What does that mean? It's typical Lovecraftian eldritch mythos where if you gaze upon their true form, you lose your sanity. It's subtle foreshadowing of Homelander becoming more and more insane in Billy's presence. What’s the mucous-like substance the tendrils secrete? It’s like an aphrodisiac; I wanted to be funny and pay homage to the tentacle h3ntai p0rn tropes out there. It's my first try with this trope so please go easy on me, haha. What happened at the end? They destroy the world, plain and simple. This AU is short and to the point but the idea is that Billy provides revenge on Homelander's childhood tormentors. (All those scientists? Slaughtered or driven mad.) Even with Billy's offer to ruin everything, despite HL’s pettiness, there's still a shred of humanity inside HL that didn't want to see everyone dead (his logic: how can he be a god when there's nobody left to worship him?). With him being conditioned to depend on Vought and the corporation subliminally advertising himself as “earth’s mightiest defender,” HL charitably grants Vought “one last chance.” …But subconsciously he’s looking for a reason, any justification, any excuse to bury this rotten planet that’s been nothing but cruel to him (in his opinion). He’s waiting to be disappointed for the last time. He just needs that one final push to finally forsake humanity—because now it’s not his fault, you see? You did this. You guys have no one to blame but yourselves for dooming the rest of this world. (This is how, in his psyche, he avoids taking responsibility. Because he has “justification” on his side.) Whether it be Vought’s board of directors, his fans or sycophants, the constant paparazzi and public scrutiny, etc, it’s inevitable someone will piss him off the deep end. I wanted a somewhat nihilistic lovecraftian ambiguous ending and leave it up to readers’ interpretation, but you are free to imagine after Butcher's rampage and after returning earth to void, he takes Homelander who's carrying their eggs back to his realm. And they raise their half-Supe, half-eldritch terrors happily. I HCed Billy originally wanted to fill Homelander with a thousand eggs, but the human colon can only take so much. Most of the eggs end up duds and need to be pushed out/ pulled out (which, y'know, can also be fun *wink wink nudge nudge* I can't say HL didn't enjoy that—a lot), and they ended up with only a couple surviving clutch. The children can adopt a human form (with tentacles) like their papa (inheriting both parents' features) or revert to their true monstrous forms.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

[meru90]

✨ Dokomi 2023 Catalogue ✨ I’ll be at Dokomi next weekend sharing a table with @ikimaru and you can find us at table L29 / Hall 3

lmao secret sticker

I'll also bring lot's of old print designs and a few tgcf cups if i can

[bbeeohazardd]

IT'S FINALLY DONE, MODS STOP THE TIMER

okay, so, i said i would finish this tomorrow, but then people showed excitement and i got so hyped that i couldn't sit around and wait to finish so here we go

JRWIVRAI

HLVRAI and JRWI The Fated crossover AU thing that i have been losing my mind about for weeks, basic info and world stuff under the cut bc it's so damn long, i will eventually do full body refs with info about everyone's backgrounds but for now i am exhausted and after i post this i am going straight to bed lmao

Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, the world was hit with a calamity known as Spell Plague, a blight on the world that threw everything out of balance, magic itself being frayed and entire planes being affected.

One such place was Ingris, being hit in a way where it split into two worlds running parallel to each other, an issue that caused certain gods to rise to power as others fell. For many years, the after effects of the calamity would continue to ravage the world, and even once things started healing, the two worlds would stay separate.

Until hundreds of years later, two adventuring parties, similar yet different in many ways, would enter their own respective caves. The two groups finding an odd relic, a large gemstone, that they would touch, causing the two halves of the world to finally merge back together and become one again. An event that would result in the two parties meeting, and having to team up in order to save the world.

Outside of the party, the general public is unaware of the merge, but the gods know, and only time will tell what chaos will arise from it.

Gordon Freeman - Half-Elf Fighter Benrey - Changeling Bard Harold Coomer - Duergar/Dark-Dwarf Barbarian Bubby Coomer - Drow/Dark-Elf Sorcerer Tommy Coolatta - High-Elf Warlock G-Man - Archfey Lord of the Eclipse, Patron of Tommy Darnold Pepper - Half-Elf Wizard Forzen - Hobgoblin Artificer

General Groups: The Fated - Br'aad, Sylnan, Taxi, Velrisa, Mountain, Gordon, Tommy, Coomer, Bubby, Benrey Team Nice - Redd, Darnold, Forzen

[strqyr]

toying around with an idea that the original maidens were salem and ozma's daughters (the eldest daughter's magic was shown only as the elemental swirlies, the colors match, etc) and their deaths started the cycle (the power transfer -> a combination of ozma's reincarnation & salem's immortality?) but at some point in time oz also did give them parts of his magic, just not the elemental kind (which he has never been shown to use) but rather the four gifts, thus making the maidens the keys to the vaults.

so like, by technicalities and skirting the line, he never really lied about how the maidens came to be, but it's not The Truth either, hence why jinn would include such things as "oh hey, btw, ozma and salem had four kids who all just so happened to be girls and were capable of magic, surely this brings nothing to the mind wink wink ;)"

[themulitipurposechannel]

Fic: This is victory (hollow and cold).

inspired by @goodlucktai and their incredible story “Raised on little light”

Part: Two

Tw: major character death, grief, suicide idealisation, disassociation, starvation, slight description of injuries and inaccurate medical advice

This is hope.

_

The air is much chillier today. Once upon a time, that would be the herald of their highly anticipated snow day. Emojis will flood the family groupchat, plans will be made, schedules will be cleared, homework conspicuously forgotten. But that was then. This is now.

Leo's memorial hangs above them like a haunting guillotine. It would be better if he actually was haunting this place. Anything is better than this.

"Hi" Mikey smiles weakly, trying to play off his squeak of suprise into faux causalness. "I saved you lunch."

Raph nods. "Thanks" he pokes at the reheated chicken curry and rice in silence. It's good. It always is. But it feels like ash most days.

"So how was patrol? You're not usually back this early." Mikey bless his soul. He's trying so hard.

It hurts as much as it warms the snapper's heart. His littlest brother, trying so hard to scrap together just a little more light for all of them, like he wasn’t crying himself to sleep every night, the ‘if I was just a little faster’ eating him up alive.

(Dead in the middle of the night, the snapping alligator turtle returns back from patrol and freezes just outside a colourful subway car. Soft shaking sobs, creep out from just beyond the unlit car.

Raph wants nothing more than to walk in, scoop his little brother into his arms and never let anything hurt him ever again. But the memory of pink tendrils and ‘if this is the end I want to let you know that I’m sorry’ hold him in place. Raph is not safe.

So shamefully, cowardly, like every night before this, the eldest brother turns and walks away.)

Michelangelo deserves better than this.

But Raphael is not safe.

"It was fine just... loud. You know how humans are" The snapper shrugs half-heartedly, sitting across the table from the box turtle. It was more than that. Cheerful music, parading crowd. Raph gets it, he does. By all accounts it's a good thing. A victory over the failed invasion. Humanity won, Yokai-kind won too. And knowing of it or not, the whole of earth won as well.

They have no idea what bled for them that day. What still bleeds for them to this day. Raph tries to stomach it till he couldn't no more. Grief festering in his chest till he punched a hole through an old construction site. That, was when he knew he had to head home to their dojo before he did something he regrets. Which actually... is something he should get back too. He still too angry.. he's not. Raph's not safe.

"Hah.. New York what a town right?" Mikey nudges him shyly, blind to the danger present. Raph flinches, jerking away. Raph's not safe.

"Mikey! Careful-!" The red snapper snaps immediately deflating in muted horror at the younger turtle’s grimace. What is he doing? He’s scaring him! “I-geez, sorry. sorry.” The floor is suddenly much more interesting to look at now. “Raph was just thinking of going to the dojo” The snapper sags.

"Oh okay.. I see” Mikey’s smile wobbles, at the corner of his eye, Raph can see it. “That’s.. that’s ok, big bro. have fun." His voice is pitched just a tiny bit too high. Raph doesn’t need to look at Mikey directly, years of growing up togather tell him the box turtle is barely choking back tears.

It's another stab at his already leaking heart, his baby brother always so loud with his emotions has no right being this subdued. You already leave him to cry alone. Mind Raph reminds him, firm but not cruel. Raph would really prefer it if he was. He wants you to stay. You can at least do this much.

"Actually, the dojo can wait. You got lots on your plate right?" Raph quickly pivots, motioning to the half filled sink."Raph will help you clean up" The older teen picks up his plate and starts towards the sink, still keeping a wide berth between them.

The result is instantaneous. The sun breaks through the stormy clouds. Mikey looks like he can damn near combust from how widely he is grinning, trying and failing to hide the not so subtle flutter of his hands in a happy stim.

It makes the snapper’s heart want to burst. Once, a long time ago this would be the time Raph would sweep his baby brother, sunshine personified, into a big crushing hug, a playful noogie included. But that was then. This is now.

Instead slowly, carefully, Raph reaches out and briefly pats Mikey’s head. Proud of himself for barely shaking this time. It’s such a small thing, it used to be so easy. Still Mikey gratefully drinks it all in, like a cactus to water in a desert.

“So you draw anything new?” Raph tries to ask. Immediately grimacing at the awkwardness of it all. Talking used to be so easy. What happened to them?

Luckily Mikey seems to take it in stride. Happy to talk and talk and talk about the new charcoal medium he was trying, the weird Lou jitsu memorabilia he found while cleaning (Since when did Mikey clean?? Willingly??) under the couch and the one or two grocery’s hauls done by April. No mention of Mikey begging April let him go topside with her. No mention of any junkyard trips with Donnie(not that Raph was surprised). No trips outside. No detours. Nothing.

Since when did that happen too? Distinctly Raph can remember many a time spent furiously wrangling a tiny little brother over the phone for him to come home. Because it’s getting late, the sun is coming up, Big man that alley isn’t going to run away, you can come back later please-

His little brother, for all his box turtle homing instincts, loved to explore, weather it be to discover small family shops in the hidden city or find a new spot for graffiti topside. Discovering new things was his thing, it’s what made Michelangelo, Michelangelo. Then again how much did the snapper really know of his brothers nowadays huh? He pushes that thought aside before he can dwell on it any further not wanting to sour this rare lightness.

“…And then I spent the rest of the day trying get rid of those annoying cobwebs!” Mikey shakes his head. “Dad was right we really need to clean our rafters more!” The box turtles huffs as he places a now clean plate into their cabinet.

But the last time Raph remembered dad complaining, or the tell-tale swoosh of a lab door being opened was 14 months ago.

Pizza supreme, Raph blinks, swaying a little. That was why the box turtle drank in any and all touch Raph gave. This poor kid, oh god his poor baby brother, one of their most sociable and people loving family members, technically with Leo gone Mikey was the only one now.

All alone for months on end with the only indication that he wasn’t the only living soul in the lair, was the occasional bags of food that appeared by the lair’s entrance and the empty plates by Donnie’s lab and Pop’s room. Mikey must be so, so touch starved. How long has the box turtle been doing this? How did they let this get so bad? How did they not notice? What happened to us? The eldest brother mourns. If nothing else, he resolves to at least try to give his poor, touch starved brother one head pat every other day. He’s already failed Leo and Donnie, he can’t fail Mikey too.

Unbidden, Raph can’t help but remember a time just last week, where he had punched their punching bag clean off its chain. Only to return an hour later with a new one already in its place. At that time he assumed it was Donnie (with all his all seeing cameras and regular but eerily silent maintenance to all their appliances. No more loudly complaining over who broke their toaster) who replaced it but now-

Tap.Tap.Tap.

“Raphie..? Raphala?” Mikey smiles sweetly but hesitantly. Thankfully, the box turtle seemed to learn his lesson earlier. Instead of touching the older turtle like before, Mikey taps the countertop to get Raph’s attention. “Is everything ok?”

“Oh yeh;Raph’s good.” Raph shakes his head. “Was just thinking”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Big doe eyes somehow get wider. Once upon a time that would have been enough to make Raph cave.

“Your uhm-hands are doing good.” Raph cringes, painfully adverting his gaze. Mikey scowls, with narrowed eyes that says ‘Boi you are not slick’. But the days of loud Dr Delicate touch, fearlessly climbing or latching on top of his brothers and pushing,and pushing, until they fess up are far behind them.

So instead, Mikey sighs and with a worn smile, he says. “You know you can always talk to me right Raph?”

“I.. I know.” Raph nods, beak quirking into crumpled facsimile of a smile, cuz gosh does he know. All those Dr feelings seminars. Raph shudders to himself. But this, something about their ‘this’ will always feel too much like a raw nerve or a live wire his other little brother was way too fond of playing with. Shit, he missed Donnie so much. How was it possible to miss someone who was still alive this much? Some days it really did feel like he lost two little brothers instead of one. One was already one too many.

With a shake of his head Raph forces himself back into his body. No need to space out twice now. He already promised himself he’ll try for Mikey. If Donnie, April and Dad weren’t going to be here. Raph would at least try, so that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Same goes for you too, big man” The snapper gestures to the box turtle with his chin. And he means it he does.

Mikey hums, nodding. Resuming his task.

The sound dissolves into the quiet clinking of plates and sloshing water. Not quite uncomfortable but not quite comfortable either.

“Is your eye doing ok?” Mikey ask, trying to steer them to more comfortable waters.

“It’s fine.” Raph answers, happy to take the out. “More than fine. Doesn’t ache at all actually. Just numb and a little tingly.”

“Oh mi gosh! You too?”

Surprised, Raph snaps his head towards an equally wide eyed Mikey. It breaks his heart. His little brother used to be so much louder than this. Raph tries to smile encouragingly, prompting the orange turtle to continue.

“My hands still shake sometimes. But every time I think they’re going to start hurting they just don’t” The box turtle pouts . “Even Barry was surprised. He says it’s supposed to hurt. I just feel tingly and numb too”. His face scrunches briefly, disgruntled. “-makes it hard to know when I overdo it though.” To demonstrate, Mikey wiggles all 6 fingers in a loose jazz hands gesture. Smiling slightly.

A surprised laughs tears out from the older brothers beak; equal parts exasperated and fond. He doesn’t know what why, it wasn’t really that funny. But something about the silly gesture must have reached him somewhere. Because here he is, airy and softer but still,laughing.

Delighted, Mikey giggles back. Eyes wet. How long has it been since he last heard his brother laugh?

If only Leo was here.

If only this could last forever.

But Something suffocates the precious warmth instantly

Mikey's hold on the plate shatters. It drops to the ground breaking into a million pieces.

Speak of the ghosts and the ghosts will come.

(Deep Down, beneath them, inside of them, around them, where the space of RedPurpleOrangeGreenWhite swirl around each other so close yet so far. No longer able to bear the thought of intersection but unable bear the thought of tearing away from each other.

Nonono-

Something withers. something dies.

Like the chime of Blue saying ‘Hero moves are totally your style’

Before it winks out from existence, leaving a gaping hole behind. It doesn’t even bleed. It would have been better if it at least bled. Now its just empty-

No please we can’t go through this again-)

Frantically, head partially in his chest, the box turtle staggers, looking around fearfully, spots glowing orange in alarm.

"Where-?" Mikey starts.

For the first time in months, pure big brother instinct completely overrides his anxiety, Raph grabs for Mikey. Tucking him protectively under his shoulder protectively and races towards Donnie's lab. He'll be there. The softshell never left these days.

For the first time since they laid their Blue to rest. The sliding door to Pop's room bursts open.

"Boys! How-!?” Splinter yells rushing toward them.

"We're all fine! I don't know! " Mikey cries back, slightly giddy over the most physical contact he’s gotten in months, despite the current situation. Meanwhile Raph damn near breaks down the softshell’s door. His eye twitches. “Donnie! Donnie!! Open the door!”

For the first time in months, an achingly familiar voice answers back. “I’m okay! I know! I know! Sweet Galileo I’m trying to fix it!"

The door opens with a swoosh, releasing a gust stale air into their faces. A frazzled Donnie steps out. Eyebags galore and stench of old coffee stronger than Raph’s notorious fear stink. Raph bites down the urge to lecture the teen’s bed wrangled state.

The purple teen in question, is typing furiously on his computer wrist, while his phone is tucked between his shoulder and his face. April's voice can heard from its speaker. Yelling confusion.

(Wrong wrong wrong. The shared space of their already off kilter family mystic sways dangerously. It's quiet, too quiet. Large steady Red drapes over his remaining universe tightly, shielding orangepurplegreenwhite in a protective shield.

The colours mix. They reach for each other for the first time in months both inside and outside in shared confusion and terror.

Where?

What's going on?

We're all here.

So.. why?

But then just as quickly as it came. The ringing silence is gone. Their constellation is settles back into its uncertain balance, all is well.

Huh?

Wait. Resilient Green hushes them, listen. Tentatively, they reach out to where they hadn’t thought to do before.

Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump

It's a heartbeat. One of them realises in dawning horror.

But who?

Who else can possibly be here with them that can throw them further off balance now?

An image of similarly decorated kneepads flashes in Orange's mind. He pushes that image to the rest.

Guys. Casey.

On que, the teal heartbeat flatlines.

Oh no.

Before it staggers to its feet. Irregular and slow.

Alien relief washes over them. It wrestles with well-worn distrust and bitterness.)

“We need to find future boy.” Pops states, voice raspy from a year of disuse and places a hand on Donnie’s arm. The sudden contact nearly startles the softshell into dropping his phone. Not that Raph can blame him. He can scarcely believe dad is here either. “He owes us some answers”

In the end, they decide to split up to cover more ground. Unsurprisingly, the future protoge found a way to disable Future Donnie’s comm line. Or at least found a way to undo whatever Donnie did to sync future boy’s comm to their comm system. So contacting him directly is not an option.

It takes two hours. One wild goose chase and trying so hard to listen a nigh invisible heartbeat. When April (what would they ever do without her) points out, “Hey didn’t future boy say they lived in caves?”

Before they focus their efforts solely to the underground. Mikey took the sewers, Raph in the underground maintainance tunnels and April and Splinter in the abandoned train stations while Donnie continued to search the city’s database for any more underground structures they could check.

It’s been 3 more hours since then and one more cliff-hanging flatline.

The snapper rubs at his unseeing eye, annoyed. If he knew it was going to start aching today he would have taken some pain meds.

A creaking noise grabs his attention.

Raph looks up, seeing a half loose ceiling panel swaying in the drafty tunnel. He can’t fit. Maybe April or Mikey can. But they’re halfway across the city’s underground sector. Do it scared, do it scared. It seems today was just full of pushing past his fear huh?

So standing on his tiptoes, Raph sticks his head up the hole, his breath hitches. The smell alone makes his eyes water.

There, nestled between the tunnel’s false ceiling and actual ceiling is his little brother's killer, the one locked the door on his Leo while there was a monster with his little brother on the other side, (nevermind the fact that Leo asked him too) surrounded by rotting rat carcasses and so much more impossibly thin and still, if it weren’t for the flagging teal he’d think the boy was already dead.

Raph doesn’t know if it’s because of the revelation of distant family or the boy’s pitiful state or because of his years spent as the eldest brother, the one who is the biggest, the one who takes care of them all. Oh he's too small, Raph can’t help but think.

This is their family Ninpo. It runs on love and trust: Even at the height of their ancestor's obession with martyrdom, there had been love and trust buried in there somewhere. The family mystic wouldn't have survived to their current generation otherwise.

But Casey’s is not buried in the ground. It is not the kind that martyrs their own at the first opportunity. Not even for good reason.

It wells a confused pity, soured by residual anger. future boy; all alone. Displaced in a timeline not his own and disowned by the only remnants of familiarity.

Gingerly, carefully and trying not to have a panic attack over the prospect of prolonged contact. Deep breaths. Just take deep breathes. You’re the only one who can do this. Breathe. You picked up Mikey, and he was fine. you can do it again. It’s just for a little while. Trembling down to a manageable level, Raph then lifts the unconscious human up and down through the rafter hole. The movement causes stained, loosely tied bandages to slip, and the stench goes from bad to downright horrendous.

The overpowering smell of sewer and pus nearly makes him drop the kid into dirty sewer water and gag. Which is saying something cuz Raph grew up in the sewers. The snapper is no medic, but pizza supreme, he knows humans aren’t supposed to be this warm nor is their flesh is supposed to leak yellow or swell such an angry red.

Holding the boy at arms length, Raph lifts his comms to his face. “I found future boy. Heading back to the lair now. He’s hurt bad.” If he sounds a little breathless no one points it out. He doesn’t stay long enough the rest of the group’s verbal assent. There are too many thoughts in his head. Raph doesn’t know what to feel as he walks back through the dark tunnels.

.

.

.

It’s 3am when the search finally concludes, too long since the mutant turtles and rat last ate lunch and too late for April to make the journey back to her apartment.

She stays overnight for the first time since that day. The group stand around the living room in silence. The rush of trying to stabilise the med-bay-bound time traveler is finally over and with it, their crushing spector returns with a vengeance.

“Well, I guess I’ll go get dinner started then!” Mikey smiles nervously, ducking out to escape to the kitchen. “I hope you guys don’t mind lasagna !” He calls.

Sharing one last glance, the rest disperse. No words need to be said, they all know their roles. Even months apart and drowning in unnatural silence, cannot wash away the years of laying this foundation.

April grabs the plates and utensils, Raph and Donnie start to round up the assortment of beanbags and chairs scattered across the lair and bring it to the table while Splinter hovers near the kitchen doorway, in case Mikey needed him. He was the only one, save April or occasionally Raph, who Mikey trusted in his kitchen. They were supposed to be banned together. Set of a pair.

“Ah” April chokes up, freezing mid-plate placement. Worried, Donnie walks over, leaving Raph to set the last beanbag. “April what’s wrong?”

In response, a strangled gasp (it sounds suspiciously like tears) escapes from his older sister, she shakes her head unable to continue. The soft shell frowns and begins counting the plates with his hand. One, Two, Three.. yes, there were six plates. Donnie doesn’t see the issue, six plates for six people-himself, April, Dad, Raph, Mikey, Le- Oh. His hand drops. Suddenly the cold tiles beneath him go from unnoticeable to digging pins and needles into his heels. Hurts, hurts everything hurts.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry” April shakes, She’s crying, Donnie is frozen. His heart beats a rabbit quick. Donnie doesn’t know what to do. He can’t do. His other half is gone, His big sister rarely ever cries, the faint sounds from the kitchen are too much.I can’t do this. It’s all too much.

The softshell doesn’t realise he’s hyperventilating till a solid warmth rests on his shoulders.

“Donnie? Dee..? Hey. It’s ok. Copy me and Mikey ok? Deep breath in, deep breath out”

A deep rumbling churr and a raspingly familiar lullaby, one that he hasn’t heard since he was a tot, joins them in the undertone.

He forces his breaths to slow. Safe. You are safe.

Squeezing the tears from his eyes. His vision clears, and somehow the softshell finds himself sitting on the ground with a weighted blanket draped on him. April is kneeled in front to him, Mikey and Splinter beside her. While Mikey and her exaggerate their breaths for him to follow. His father’s lullaby draws to a close. Come back

Behind him, his big brother shivers, still churring, a comforting presence no blanket can ever achieve.

Confused, Donnie arches a brow at his younger brother and father. Weren’t they supposed to be in the kitchen?

Familiar with his nonverbal gestures, Mikey speaks softy, for the softshell’s comfort. “You know how dad is. Pointy ears and all. He heard you hyperventilating, I saw him try to leave.. well you know.” The box turtle shrugs. “Dinner’s already in the oven, it’ll be fine.”

It’s truly a testament to how off-kilter everyone is, when Dad refrains from using his tail to smack the youngest for the ears comment.

Donnie nods stiffly, still not quite able to push past the weight holding his tongue.

He feels naked, exposed. Yet…somehow his body feels more relaxed and unwound than it has ever been in months, as if finally awoken from a long dream. For the first time, Donnie turns and lets his eyes wander around their lair, truly look at it. Not shamble through its halls during the witching hours half dead and with a single minded focus on: coffee, fix the occasional appliance, and returning to his lab.

The cobwebs by the rafters are gone. The playstation controllers are neatly stacked, the floor. The floor. A chill creeps back up his feet and into his hands. Gone is the stubborn layer of dust, dirt and crumbs that somehow always managed to coat the floor. It’s clean. It not supposed to be clean. Not even with three teenage boys.

I have become a ghost in my own home. The softshell blinks, dazed. How much has he missed? The genius wonders with no small amount of dread.

Mikey cocks his head to the side, cautiously curious. “Do you want to talk about it? Signing works too.”

The softshell’s feels his shoulders rise, ice all over. gone.gone. Gone. Six plates. A broken set. How he could be possibly explain this? How could he possibly articulate that kind of agony.

Sensing the return of the younger boy’s spiral, April shoulder checks him, disrupting the thought train. “It’s my fault. I was setting the table but then I realised-” Her voice wavers, but no new tears spill out. “- I realised I grabbed six plates”

Grieving understanding darkens everyone else’s face.

“Yeah.” April laughs sardonically. “I’m being a terrible big sister right now aren’t I?”

Donnie frowns, vermantly. As does everyone else in protest.

“April no..”

“That’s not true-”

“Green..”

“Guys stop.” She holds her hands up , Let me finish. She adds unspoken. They let her. Because when April O’Neil wanted to say something you listened.

“You guys don’t have to make me feel better ok? I know.” She whispers, wrapping her arms around herself in some modicum of comfort. “You’re my family.” The 19 year old cries heartbroken, bowing her head in shame. “You’re my family, you guys needed me and I avoided this place like the plague. Because it hurt too much to be here.” Unspoken their eyes drift to Leo’s memorial before returning back to each other.

“You were hurting…” Raph offers up, no longer churring.

“We’re all hurting! That doesn’t make it an excuse!” April hisses, snapping up to meet the second eldest’s gaze. Her eyes fierce even with a fresh set of tears. The snapper shrinks.

The human crumbles too, instant regret colours her face. “Oh, big guy I’m so sorry.” Gently, slowly she reaches out a tentative hand to the largest turtle. He leans into it, only to draw back at the very last second.

She presses lips into a thin line to keep herself from crying harder. April nods, eyes flashing in pained understanding. She sighs, steeling herself and then continues.

“When that void hit our Ninpo.. again” they all grimace in mutual disgust . “Fuck.. I was terrified. it was like being stuck on the ground again where we had to watch Leo, except worse.” She cups her hands to her face. “Because this time, I stayed away on purpose.”

“What if it wasn’t Casey? But one of you ?” She looks off into the distance, haunted. “What if the last memory you all had of me was off the worst day of our lives, instead of me telling you guys how much I love you. Because I do.” She says, wrecked with grief. But also love Always love. “Splints you’re my weird uncle, and you boys are my little brothers. I can’t lose you guys.”

Unable to contain himself anymore, Mikey loops his arms around her waist and burrows into her side. She reciprocates eagerly, wrapping an arm around her youngest brother and pulling him closer. “You’re not the only one who was pulling away.” The box turtle says sadly.

To the side, the former actor turned father and current Hamato patriarch says nothing, he watches his beloved sons and niece(?)semi-ward(?), (bah, doesn’t matter she’s family) silently. Deep in thought.

“Michel’s right.” Donnie chimes in, finally able to get his tongue working. They all look to him with varying degrees of suprise. Which is fair, he’s not exactly the picture of emotional vulnerability or mental health. None of them are. Donnie swallows down a lump. He does not want to do this. Newton’s beard does he not want to do this.

But his home is being warped around him. There is sterility where there should be chaos. Mikey is withdrawn, Raph is touch adverse, April is crying and Papa has not once complained bout missing any off his TV shows. We’re breaking. Donnie realises with hysterical dread. They’re barreling to the point of no return, and if something doesn’t give soon, they might be too far gone from themselves and each other, to ever fit back together.

He’s already bleeding out from the space where his twin used to be. Losing them like this, in any form will truly be the final gun shot to his brain. And they definitely won’t survive losing his genius either.

“I don’t.. I don’t think I know what to do with myself without Leo around.” He shifts uneasily, adverting his eyes from his family. “But I don’t want to leave you guys alone.” He grimaces, picking at his nails in nervous tick. “And I know.. leaving per se, isn’t what Leo would want. So as I’m sure as some of you know..” Donnie casts what he hopes is an apologetic look to Raph and Mikey. The ones he was sure felt his absence most keenly, like it or not, his father and him had very similar coping mechanisms, ie: drowning themselves in whatever be it TV shows or inventing to distract themselves from reality. “..I try to keep myself busy.” The softshell finishes.

Raph pales at the implication. “Donnie..” he says pained, but doesn’t make a move to hold the soft shell. Instead his hands brush against the younger teen’s shoulders tense and longing. Donnie tries not to take it personally.

He feels his dad’s tail wraps around his waist and squeeze. “I am so sorry, my son.”

Tearing up, Mikey slowly unwinds himself from April and holds out his arms in invitation. Donnie leans forward and the box turtle pulls Donnie into a hug, squeezing him with all the fierce, warm love only the sun like him can give. “Thank you for telling us. And thank you for staying.” His little brother says fiercely.

“I can never leave you all without my genius” He hugs Mikey back. Because it is true. Leo is his other half. But his whole world has always been made up of RaphLeoMikeyAprilPapa and the numerous tiny planets that made up his love for science and mechanical engineering.

It’s funny really. The genius locked himself in his lab, threw himself into home security, and chipped away at the backlogs of blueprints that had accumulated over the years, all in an effort to slow the bleeding. There could be no space for grief and the ‘just a little left and you can join him’ if he worked himself to exhaustion.

It kept him from thinking. It kept him in stasis. It kept him and his katana-sharp grief from spilling out and poisoning his beloved family. But he already did, didn’t he? For all his genius he failed to account how his absence was a poison too.

Yet this small pocket of family comforting him, helping him through his recent meltdown has done more to warm the chill and bandage the wrongness of gone gone gone-Something intrinsic to Hamato Donatello is gone- than any machine or programme he worked himself to death making.

Truthfully, Donnie doesn’t know if he can ever truly live with being half of a whole or a piece of his world gone, but for his remaining world, he’s willing to try. Besides, wasn’t Excascale computing becoming global soon? He definitely wants to try and stick around for that.

April rests her head on his shoulder, “Oh Dee.. we are so going to find you a therapist.”

“Preferably one with at least 4 doctorates.” He quips back, half joking-half serious.

Her eyes blaze determinedly with all the fire she was so famous for. “Consider it done.” Big sister of the whole wide world.

“Raph can look in the hidden city too.” Raph volunteers. “I’ll help too.” Donnie feels Mikey nod enthusiastically.

Despite everything, Donnie feels a small twitch upwards at his beak the first touch of a smile since that day. This.. this was still good.

“Actually..” after a brief pause, Mikey pipes up, nervously. “Since we’re all sharing something today, is it ok if I say something too?”

“Go for it.”

“Of course.”

“Always”

“Ok..ok I’m gonna do it.”Nervous, the youngest drums his fingers along Donnie’s battleshell. The softshell tsks, extending two metal claws from his shell to grab the younger’s hands. “Sorry.” Mikey shrinks.

“It’s fine. Just grip the claws instead.” The purple branded teen instructs, not breaking the hug. Mikey nods, and then proceeds to white knuckle the offered claws so tightly, the metal begins to creak. It makes the older brother want to shove the younger away and scream my baby! But it’s been a literal year since he has last seen his little brother (jeezus how did he let it get this bad) so Donnie resists; just this once.

“So..” Mikey takes a deep shuddering breath, “I don’t want you guys to take this the wrong way. I love you guys. I love to cook for you guys, I promise.” He looks to April,Splinter,Raph pleadingly.

“And I know you’re all hurting so I don’t mind handling the chores myself either.” He smiles wobbly. Shock briefly paints Donnie and Splinter’s face. Raph hunches inward and April’s looks away, ashamed. So that was who deep cleaned their floor and cleared out the webs. The mutant rat concludes heartbroken. He gently cups his son’s face. Mikey leans into it.

The floor alone would have taken days. How lonely must his son have been? Splinter mourns.

“B-but it gets really hard sometimes and I’m sorry.” Mikey hiccups, big fat tears rolling down his face. Forming a damp patch on the softshell’s shoulder that he bravely tolerates. “A-and I know I shouldn’t be complaining. It’s my fault Leo-”

Oh no. Oh hell no. Not their youngest.

The explosion of protests is violent.

“Baby, no.” April gasps horrified.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.” Donnie hisses, wrenching Mikey away by his shoulders and shaking him.

“But if I was just a little faster-” The box turtle shakes.

“Orange, you did everything you could”

“But you guys-” Mikey whimpers.

“No.” Raph growls, clenching his fists. “ just because we’re hurting doesn’t mean anything. We are relying a bit too much on you. You cook for all of us. You’re the only one who keeps our home clean,” Raph places a light hand atop his little brother head. He has to say this, he has to. For Mikey. And.. for himself. “And Leo..” They all flinch. “Leo made his own choices.” Raph sags. “So please, don’t hurt my baby brother by blaming him for things out of his control.”

“But.. what about you?” Mikey wobbles

“Huh?” Raph tilts his head to the side.

“Do you blame yourself?” Point blank when he wants to me.

There is silence. The snapper recoils back stung. Raph for as big as he is, feels smaller than ever. “It’s not the same. You were trying to help. But I..”he hands his head low. “I hurt you guys.”

A chorus of protest break out again.

“It wasn’t you!”

“Literally impossible. You? The guy who feeds stray cats?”

“It was the Krang!”

“I know that!” Raph snaps. “It’s so stupid I know. The krang did it, not me.” The snapper grips his head. “But I’m the strongest and the biggest. And everything I close my eyes I see..” the red turtle shakes,staring down at his hands. “I don’t need mind control to hurt ya guys. If I mess up..” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling. “ I.. I’m supposed to take care of you bozos.”

“Oh big guy.. We’re supposed to take care of each other.” This time not to be deterred. April wraps her arms around his large arm. It burns, but he can’t bear to shake her off, not after so long. “if nothing else, you and I promised remember? We would share.” Her eyes glimmer again with new tears.

(A lifetime ago, tucked away in a little corner away from where little brothers are sleeping.

A 11 year old and 10 year old lie nestled against each other. “Thanks for helping to get my brothers to sleep. Raph’s really sorry for this. They always get so fussy when they’re sick.” He grumbles, tucking his head between his knees.

The girl giggles. “Psh~ I already said it’s fine. You don’t have to do it all by yourself.”

“But I’m the oldest.” The boy protests.

“Uhh no. I’m the oldest. Im 11.” She rolls her eyes. Beaming “I’m always happy to help if you want?”

“Really?” He gasps, eyes sparkling.

“Well duh,” The girl grins, not yet realising just how far she will go or the magnitude she will carry for her soon-to-be family. But her mum always said she could do anything. So she will endure, gladly for them. “What are friends for?” )

Seeing the lack of protest this time, Mikey and Donnie take that opportunity to pull away form each other and encircle their big brother on either side.

“We’re with you always raphie.” Mikey hugs.

“Yeah. Yeah What he said.” Donnie, opting to rest his hand against his older brother.

“You guys..” Raph sniffs, bending down to be closer to his siblings.

“My sons, my family..” Splinter stands and joining the rest of his family at last. They all turn to face him. “This past year has been hard on us all. With our blue..” The elderly man stutters, chest hurting. “-it will likely always be hard on us. Which is why more than ever we have to press in. I know I have not been the best father, but as the head of the household and the adult, I should have known better than to leave you all to your hurts.” Splinter kneels, dogeza style. “I am truly and deeply sorry. Please I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. No matter what happens, from now on I promise, I will do my very best to be here now.”

“Dad..”

“Pops..”

“Oh Splints.”

“I don’t normally feel things but that one got through.”

“Donnie really?” April chuckles weakly, rolling her eyes. The softshell doesn’t quite feel up to smiling yet, so he shrugs instead. Leo wasn’t here anymore. Someone has to do it.

“Cmon guys, Pop’s is right.” Raph huffs affectionately, he still doesn’t feel quite so comfortable to hug them all back. But he’s not pulling away and that means everything. “No more. We have to stick together.”

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” Mikey beams, wiping away the tears.

“Anatawa Hitorijanai” the rest of them echo back. Pressing closer to each other again.

“Wait.” Donnie stiffens, pulling away. “Angelo how long has your lasagna been in the oven?”

“My lasagna!” With a shriek and a jump, Mikey tears himself away from the group and races towards the kitchen.

He doesn’t get far, stoping just shy of the doorway when the Smoke detector goes off with vengeance. Followed by a BOOM! And the tell-tale glow of yellow-orange flames lick at the doorway.

“Orange! What did you put in that lasagna!”

“I don’t know! It’s never done this before!”

“The fire exstinghisher! Someone get the fire exstinguisher!”

“FIRREEEFIIGGHTTTIINGG LIKE A BOSSSS!”

“Wait! No no no! Raph! That’s the turbo mo-”

Peals of laughter break through the halls amidst the smouldering fire and smoke and clouds of demineralised water particles.

For the first in a long, long time the lair feels less a living tomb and more a home.

They think Leo might be proud.

<Prev | Next>

[reallysaneguy]

So I have a Spider-Noir AU and I think it's pretty swell

so basically. yeah. Uhm. Well. So first off, I would like to mention that I was, in fact, in a manic episode when I got the idea. so you cant be mean to me. Look, I know this sounds crazy guys but PLEASE IT'S MY EVERYTHING

He's always been a really mad character. the first thing he did after getting his powers is go to kill goblin. So I figured, lets amp it up by 100. So now, unintentionally, I made him a mix of Punisher and Jigsaw. But he's cooler and more interesting because... uh... he's him? Yeah.

If you couldn't tell by the beautiful graphic, massive trigger warning. this gets graphic. like, REALLY gorey graphic. I don't know why nor how I got these ideas. but yeah. warning for that. No visuals, though

To start off, SCREW THE 2020 NOIR COMICS. THOSE ARE NOT HIM!!! THOSE ARE SO NOT HIM!!! THOSE ARE FAN SERVICE!!!! I am the fan though. That one panel with his double Ds is, in fact, my lockscreen. BUT THATS NOT THE POINT!!! the point is, it's a continuation of the 2009 comics. actually, it continues after Spider-Geddon. Because 2 can play the back from the dead game. Since it's a continuation, I beg of you to please read his comics. please. please oh my god they're so good. like oh my god. I have made a google slideshow about them. guys they are so full of tiny details I gen can't

So he's back after dying. I figured it can be the same way as the canon one. I'm not that creative. OBVIOUSLY some other canon parts have been changed, too. I'm bringing characters who def could have survived back, hence the ability to eat vulture back. which. is what we're doing. well, what he's doing. uhm.

Anyways, he's back from the dead. He rushes home to Aunt May just wanting a hug from her after everything he just went through. Unfortunately, when she sees him (after the initial disbelief) she looks at him with nothing but disgust for him.

So now he's homeless. But he has a cat. Because adding Ding-Ding was such an amazing move in the 2020 comics. So he basically just lives with this cat. He does, eventually, become a PI with his own little abode. Don't ask for more details. I don't know.

Well. Uhm. GUYS I'M SORRY. I HAD TO DO IT. I COULDN'T THINK OF A BETTER REASON TO LOSE YOUR SANITY. GUYS PLEASE I'M SO SORRY. IF YOU ARE ON TIKTOK, YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN SOMETHING WITH IT, AND YOU BLAMED IT ON BENNY BOY. I'M SORRY. I'M THE ONE WHO DID IT. HE JUST DREW IT.

I killed the cat. Precious Ding-a-Ling is dead.

So he snaps. He's officially lost everything. Aunt May disowned him, Robbie is Robbie, and as of right now MJ is back to war or something. idk. maybe she can be dead too. yeah. MJ is also dead. THE POINT IS, HE HAS NOTHING NOW.

And now, the only thing that brings him any emotion, is after killing a bad person. So he hunts them down. It's like a drug. He has nothing left, so why not? It's not like he can die. At least he's helping people. But after a while, it's just not enough. These people deserve more than an easy way out. He slowly becomes more and more sadistic.

This is where the Vulture comes back. Who else is still alive? Goblin, Montana, Ox, Doc Ock, Shocker, and Mysterio. And since I was bored, Jonah and Felicia are part of this too. Yeah.

One of my beautiful (really shitty) drawings is based off "an eye for an eye", because that's what this is. Revenge. So here's some outcomes for those guys!

The Vulture: Blood eagle (because he needs wings, duh) and also eaten. He's also! Alive! yeah. Our silly guy knows anatomy. He knows what he can and can't do. (I watched midsommar)

The Goblin: His greatest fear is being locked up in a cage and mocked. So he's kept in a cage. And Since he always had others do his dirty work, it's his turn. He's gotta help clean up and help torture. Also, he's being experimented on. Because once again, Peter Parker is Peter Parker, and he is a nerd

Doc Ock: I originally was going to lobotomize him, but that's BORING!!! So he is now Swiss cheese. yeah. lots of holes drilled into him.

Shocker: Bennett actually came up with this one; electric chair, but he has to power it himself.

Mysterio: White room.

Uhm. I do have more, but this is already long and I don't want to bore you guys if you've read all this for some reason. But thank you if you did! I've actually worked really hard on this entire thing. There's a lot to it. So I hope you enjoyed this???

[lostsowly]

Hello Soul ☺️🌺

I hope it’s okay to send this but I had a funny thought I wanted to share.

They are selling these merch of wind breaker and

There’s a patch of UME 😂😂😂

Just imagine someone giving this to Sakura?? (Probably Suo) and Sakura’s reaction?? And be against it, but he would wear it later anyways. Because they gave it to him and everyone has one 🥹

(Sugishita wants 1000 😆🤣)

Yep, it's completely fine! ^^

I had a good laugh imagining how this would turn out xD

(I checked the post and apparently, it's a shoe charm? Imagine wearing an Ume shoe charm and kicking people xD)

Say one day, Suo walks into the class with a carton full of Umemiya merch and no explanation whatsoever.

No one knows why and how he got them. But no one wants to ask about it either because Sugishita is in earshot and they don't intend to anger him.

Except one person doesn't care and yells, "WHY ARE YOU GIVING THIS TO ME?!?!" He would probably also say something about it being useless and what even is a shoe charm?? (I hc Sakura not knowing much about accessories)

Sakura is unaware of the glare Sugishita is sending his way and continues fumbling with the Ume shoe charm, red in the face and glaring at Suo, who's smiling back at him unfazed.

He might not be entirely against receiving a gift but he does protest a little. That’s where I feel class 1-1 steps in, telling him they can use it as a matching class accessory like a friendship charm and Sakura finds himself drawn to that idea. He still doesn’t understand why it has to be Umemiya on the charm xD (The suggestion was highly motivated by their need to prevent another fight breaking out between Sakura and Sugishita. Mostly because Sugishita already had his hands on a table and was seconds away from throwing it at his head.)

Sugishita is still not convinced that Sakura actually likes the gift and is glaring daggers at him during the patrol while Nirei is trying his best to prevent a catastrophe. (Somebody help him T^T) They are all wearing the shoe charm by the way ^^ The class managed to convince him to wear it as a friendship charm and Sakura bashfully wore it. He melted against their friendly gaze :D (Sugishita did ask for more but they ran out of them sadly. Kiryu offhandedly mentioned that he might be able to get his hand on some merch, much to Sugishita's delight.)

In hindsight, I can also see them kicking people wearing the Ume shoe charm and someone noticed the imprint of Ume’s face on an enemy gang member’s face and things escalated from there. They started kicking people in the face with the foot where the shoe charm is attached and half a week later all the enemy gangs are walking around with Ume stamped on their faces.

Some people (coughsugishitacough) were awfully ecstatic by this and others (coughsakuracough) love stamping people’s faces with their friends xD 

(I feel like this kinda deviated from the original idea because I had too many thoughts and couldn’t pick one 😭 I hope you have fun with this silly thing <33)

[babyluc]

Random Diluc agere hcs!

He regresses rather young (Anywhere from 1-4 years old), but initially is determined to be secretive about it and thus doesn't ask anyone for help. This resulted in quite a bit of stress, until one tearful night he decided to confide in Adelinde, who accepted him wholeheartedly.

He gradually let more people know after Adelinde promised to "deal with" anyone who would dare react poorly.

He doesn't buy much agere gear, but he has a small yet growing collection of stuffies. He keeps them in a box in his closet, but when he regresses he spreads them all across his bed!

As an adult he basically never cries, but when he regresses he cries super easily. Dropped sippy cup? Crying. Broken crayon? Crying. Raining outside when he wanted to go play? Crying.

One time Diluc began to slip at the end of a tavern shift, and as he was trying to get the last people to leave, Kaeya made a playful jab at him. When Diluc began to cry instead of saying something mean back, Kaeya was terrified.

He also smiles much more, and much bigger when he's regressed. He gets very giggly over silly things. This has also caught Kaeya off guard before, and probably scared him more than the crying.

Diluc has yes to tell Kaeya about his regression, but Kaeya has basically figured it out himself by this point. He tries to look out for the signs, and is gentler with Diluc during those times.

Diluc took up painting, inspired by his father. He has two sketchbooks, one for serious works, and another filled with wobbly crayon drawings of cool horses and birds.

He goes semi-verbal when regressed, but he will still infodump about his favourite animals if you ask (albeit slightly less eloquently than usual).

When he's regressed, he either has his hair down (too little to do it himself), or in a much more neat than usual ponytail (Adelinde helped him).

He regresses somewhat frequently. It's caused him to have to not work quite such long hours, and to not do the whole darknight hero thing so often. He's a bit frustrated by this, but everyone around him is pleased by how much healthier and rested he looks.